


skies grow darker, currents swept you out again

by fireflyslove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Identity Porn, M/M, Magic, Multi, Pirate Bucky Barnes, Pirates, Sea Captain Peggy Carter, Selkie Steve Rogers, Selkies, extreme self indulgence on the part of the author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 16:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove
Summary: Bucky was childhood friends with a selkie. When the selkie disappeared one day, Bucky took to the seas to find him. Years passed, and Bucky fell in love with a young sailor with a mysterious past. He never forgot about his selkie friend. Events cascade, and Bucky finds himself the captain of a pirate ship, in a tenuous treaty with a naval sea captain, on a chase to outwit the Bad Guys for that most precious of commodities, magic.Or,A selkie!Steve/pirate!Bucky/captain!Peggy fic with identity porn and magic because I CAN.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's working title was Resealable.
> 
> (What do a Ziploc bag and a selkie have in common?)
> 
> Title from This Love by Taylor Swift. Which, yeh, same This Love as all that time ago.

Bucky walked along the beach, kicking a particularly round stone as he went. His parents had told him and his sister to get out of the house and not come back before sunset. They were preparing for some sort of adult event that he, a ten year old boy, didn’t have even the vaguest interest in. His younger sister had begged to go to the beach, and with lack of much else to do, he had agreed. Becca was currently chasing seagulls, giggling as they scattered before her. 

Hands in his pockets, Bucky glanced up at the sound of shouting. It was coming from further up the beach, and had the high, mocking tones of a group of boys taunting someone. Bucky hurried his steps, and soon saw the group, local bullies with nothing better to do. They were a few years older than him. They surrounded something lying on the ground, and Bucky caught glimpses through their legs of something small and grey. 

“C’mon little fey, don’t you want to come out and play?” the leader asked. 

“Hey!” Bucky said. “Leave it!”

The group turned to look at him. “Ooooh, look who it is, big James Barnes, come to protect the faerie.”

“Get lost,” Bucky said. “You know what happens when people mess with the fey.”

“It’s a selkie pup, Barnes. It’s not gonna do anything to us,” the leader spat.

“Don’t make me tell my gran,” Bucky said. It was not an empty threat. Bucky’s grandmother was a powerful witch, but more than that, she was the village’s healer and wisewoman. 

The bully’s face screwed up in disgust. “Can’t even fight your own fights, what a wuss. Just remember, Barnes, your granny won’t always be around to protect you. C’mon boys, let’s go.”

Bucky truly wanted to throw a punch, but he didn’t have even the slightest chance of winning, so he merely stayed put until the retreating backs of the group were gone over the dunes. Then he turned to the small grey form lying on the sand. 

He squatted down next to them, putting a hand on their shoulder. They were small and thin, and looked, at first glance, like a seal pup. But upon closer examination, the lines were not quite right, the flippers just a little too long, the snout a little too round. And when he brushed his hand across their soft skin, the eyes flew open to reveal the bluest eyes Bucky would ever see on a being, human, fey, or animal. 

The selkie pup quivered under his hand, and Bucky quickly retracted it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just makin’ sure you’re alright. Nasty bullies, those ones.” 

The selkie looked around for a moment, twisting their head this way and that. Becca was still far down the beach, having apparently not noticed Bucky’s intervention in the slightest. They opened their mouth and a soft barking noise came out. 

Bucky shook his head, “Sorry, don’t speak selkie.”

The selkie opened their mouth again, and, to Bucky’s astonishment, spoke. “Thank you,” they said. “You are kind.”

It was clear that the selkie was taking great care to enunciate the human speech, and Bucky smiled. “They’re bullies anyway. Do you need anything? Fish?”

The selkie shook their head. “Ma will come soon. I was supposed to be hiding but they found me.”

Which means they were looking, Bucky thought. 

Bucky sat down on a nearby rock, looking over to where Becca was building a sand castle. It was midafternoon now, and they had a few hours before they had to be home. He looked down at the selkie, and then reached into his jacket pocket. He had a bit of bread in there left over from lunch, and the selkie looked thin. Even if they had refused fish, surely it didn’t hurt to offer?

He held out the bread, and the selkie sniffed it delicately. “What is it?” they asked.

“Bread,” Bucky said. 

The selkie nibbled a bit of it, and their eyes lit up. “Can I have some more?”

“You can have it all, if you want,” Bucky said. 

The selkie practically wolfed down the rest of the bread. They spent the rest of the afternoon together, while Becca played down the beach, building an elaborate complex of sand, driftwood, rocks, and shells. Bucky told the selkie about his granny and his mum and pa, and the selkie told Bucky about their (his, Bucky figured out) ma.

The sun was low on the horizon, just above the water’s edge, when the selkie’s head whipped around. Bucky heard a faint guttural bark from somewhere out in the sea, and the selkie answered, his bark higher. “That’s my ma,” he said. “I have to go.”

“Of course,” Bucky said. “I’d like to see you again, sometime?”

The selkie hesitated, but nodded. “I’d like that too.” He turned and began an inelegant shuffle toward the surf, before Bucky’s voice made him pause. 

“Hey, I’m Bucky, by the way. What’s your name?” 

The selkie looked over his shoulder, shook his head, and went back to sea. 

Bucky slapped himself on the forehead as he realized his mistake almost immediately. 

Never ask a faerie for their name. To know a faerie’s name is to be able to control them. 

-

It was almost two months later when Bucky saw the selkie again. He and his gran were walking on the beach, collecting shells and herbs for her magics and healing salves. 

He nearly tripped over the selkie, who was doing a very impressive impersonation of a rock. He landed hard on his hands, the contents of his gathering basket scattering all over the sand. 

“Oof,” he huffed. The rock he had tripped over turned fearful blue eyes on him, and it took Bucky a moment to figure out that it was the selkie and not some strange apparition. 

“Sorry,” the selkie said quietly. 

“Hello again!” Bucky said brightly. He was so happy to see the selkie that he didn’t even care about having to gather all the things into his basket again.

“You’re not mad?” the selkie asked.

“Wasn’t looking where I was going. That’s not your fault,” Bucky said. He finished piling the now-sandy contents of his basket back in rather haphazardly, and sat down on the sand next to the selkie.

The selkie tilted his head, but said nothing. 

“How have you been?” Bucky asked.

“Ma’s sick,” the selkie blurted. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Bucky said. 

“She’s been sick for a long time. Cough she can’t shake,” the selkie said. “Winter makes it worse.” It was late autumn. 

Bucky hesitated. “My gran’s a healer,” he said after a moment. “A witch, too.”

The selkie looked up at Bucky through long, thick lashes. “Ma doesn’t trust humans.”

“Wouldn’t give her any reason to,” Bucky said. “But gran’s not… all the way human.”

“What do you mean?” the selkie asked. 

“I dunno,” Bucky said. “But there’s something about her. Do you wanna meet her?”

The selkie froze. “Now?” 

Bucky nodded. “She’s just over there,” he pointed. 

The selkie seemed to consider for a moment before saying, “All right.”

“Granny!” Bucky called, and her head came up from where she was examining a patch of ferns just on the shore. “C’mere a minute!”

She hurried over, and if she was surprised to see Bucky with a selkie pup, she didn’t say anything. 

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Louisa.”

“Hello,” the selkie said. 

“His ma has a bad cough,” Bucky said. “Can you help?”

Louisa considered for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll need to go back to my cottage to get something. You stay here with him, Bucky.” 

She was gone for the better part of an hour. Bucky and the selkie traded stories, as boys that age do, for Bucky was sure that the selkie was about his age. Bucky complained about his sister and the selkie nodded sympathetically, although he had no siblings of his own. 

When Louisa returned, she was carrying a wrapped bundle. She put it down in front of the selkie. It was a fish, or at least it looked like a fish.

“It’s got herbs in it that’ll help her cough,” Louisa said. “Although from the sound of it, it’s the Deep Cough. There’s no cure for that, I’m sorry.”

The selkie nodded sadly. 

“If it helps, come back here at the next full moon and I’ll have more for you,” Louisa said. “Bucky will bring it down.”

“Thank you,” the selkie said. “I… am in your debt.”

“No,” Louisa said. “You are not. This is a service freely given and you and your mother are free from any debts to me or my family in this matter.”

The words seemed to shimmer in the air as Louisa spoke them, and Bucky could feel them vibrate in his bones. 

“Thank you,” the selkie said again, quieter this time. Then he picked the fish up in his mouth and returned to the waves. 

“What was that about?” Bucky asked. 

“Faeries take debts very seriously,” Louisa said. “I’ve relieved him of the need to repay me for this, which would have indebted him and his mother to me and my family for a very long time.”

-

At the next full moon, Bucky was sitting on the beach, the cough-fish in a basket next to him. It was cold, the first full moon of winter, and Bucky pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulder. It was approaching midnight, and there was still no sign of the selkie. 

He was dozing when a splash woke him. The selkie was coming up from the sea, and he wasn’t alone. A larger selkie followed him, presumably his mother. 

“Hello, Bucky,” the selkie pup said. 

“Hello!” Bucky said, genuinely glad to see him.

“This is my ma,” the selkie said, pointing with his flipper.

“Hello, ma’am,” he said. 

The adult selkie looked around, as if she were expecting a trap. 

“You have been kind to my son,” she said. “More than most humans would have done.”

“It’s nothing, ma’am,” Bucky said. He stood, and held out the fish. She took it, and ate it whole. 

Bucky expected that to be the end of it, but the selkie opened her mouth again, and took a long moment before speaking. 

“I know your grandmother says there is no debt incurred. But… please tell her thank you. Tell her thank you from… Sarah,” the selkie said. 

A chill went up Bucky’s spine as he realized the gravity of what she had just trusted him with. 

“I will, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll be here next month, too.”

-

The months passed quickly, and every full moon, rain, snow, or clear, Bucky waited on the beach for Sarah and her son to come ashore. As he grew, he expected the selkie pup to as well, but it seemed that Sarah’s sickliness had passed to her child. Some months she came ashore by herself, saying that her son was ill. 

Seven years passed like this. Bucky grew to regard the selkie pup as his greatest friend, although he never again asked for the selkie’s name.

In the winter of the seventh year, however, something changed. Sarah missed first one month, then two. Bucky was worried as he sat on the beach in the dark, in the deep snows of late January. 

A splashing sound from far down the beach caught his attention, and he ran to find the source. It was the selkie pup, alone. He was breathing heavily, and a dark stain coated one of his flanks. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked, dropping to his knees in the surf, heedless of the cold. 

“Pirates,” the selkie said, between labored breaths. “Ma died two months ago. Cough finally got her. I was stupid. Got too close to a harbor. They harpooned me. Barely got away.”

Bucky made a wordless sound of sadness for the loss of Sarah, but the selkie’s bloody wound was more concerning at the moment. “Will you let me take you to gran’s cottage?” he asked. “She’s not well enough to come down here, and I can’t help you.”

“Yes,” the selkie said without hesitation. 

Bucky pulled the blanket off his shoulders and wrapped it around the selkie’s small body, hoisting the seal-shape into his arms. The selkie was surprisingly heavy for his small frame, but Bucky had been throwing cargo from the docks in recent months, and had built up a great deal of muscle. 

He hurried back to his gran’s cottage, and knocked on the door with his foot. 

It took her some time to answer, holding a lantern against the darkness. She looked cross as she opened the door, ready to give hell to whoever had disturbed her rest, but when she saw Bucky and his burden, her face changed, anger replaced by worry.

“Come in,” she said. “Put him down on the sickbed.”

Bucky did so, and then retreated across the room so Louisa could work her magicks. 

It was dawn before she was done, and she was exhausted. Bucky was wiping the blood away from the selkie’s skin with a warm, wet cloth, as Louisa collapsed into her bed and fell asleep. The selkie was similarly asleep, and Bucky could feel tiredness dragging at his bones. He tossed the rag into the basin and put the basin on the table. It was too early to return to his parents’ home without waking anyone, and he didn’t have the energy to do so anyway. 

The only available space was a sliver of mattress at the head of the selkie’s bed. He sat down in it, back against the wall, and closed his eyes. 

The selkie shifted in his sleep, squirming closer to Bucky, until his head rested in Bucky’s lap. The warm weight drew Bucky down, until he slept. 

-

When Bucky awoke, he was disoriented for a moment. Bright sunlight slid in through creamy yellow curtains. He had woken in his gran’s house before, but not for many years, and certainly not ever with someone else in the bed, as there seemed to be now. The events of the night before returned in a tumble, and he looked down to find himself wrapped around the selkie, the faerie’s seal-head resting on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky was loathe to move, but nature called. 

When he returned from his business, the selkie was awake, and eating. His would from the night before was nothing but a dark scar on his grey fur.

“Good morning,” Louisa said to Bucky. 

“Mornin’,” Bucky said. 

“I’m going to market today,” Louisa said. “Becca and I will be going to your parents’ house this evening. It… would probably be best if you waited until night to return to the sea, selkie.”

“Ma’am,” the selkie said. “You cannot discharge this debt like you did for my ma’s.”

“I know,” Louisa said. “But debts do not have to be repaid immediately. And we all must live with something.” Her words had the same gravity that Bucky remembered from the night on the beach years ago, and he thought they must be some kind of spell.

Louisa left, and Bucky found himself in the improbable situation of being in his grandmother’s cottage with his friend who looked like a seal. 

The selkie sighed. “I’ve gotten myself into a right mess this time,” he said.

“How did you end up in a harbor in the first place?” Bucky asked, going to Louisa’s larder for some sort of breakfast. 

“Pirates,” the selkie said. “I don’t like them. They come and they pillage, stealing from the poor to help only themselves. I thought I could do something about them.”

“That’s a tall order,” Bucky said. 

The selkie barked a laugh. “You’re telling me.”

They passed the day like they had passed so many before, although the surroundings were different. Bucky found a deck of cards, and taught the selkie a simple game that he could play without having to hold a hand of cards.

He was surprisingly good at it and Bucky soon found himself outwitted. The angle of the sun through the window traced a line across the floor, until it was deep twilight outside. 

Bucky looked out through the window and saw the distant lamps of the village lights coming on. 

“It’s dark enough now,” he said. “We should go back to the beach.”

The selkie sighed, seemingly regretfully. “You’re right. But I still don’t want to.”

“Why?” Bucky asked. 

“I’ll miss your company,” the selkie said.

“Oh,” Bucky replied, at a loss for words. This was the same feeling he had every time the selkie left. “And I’ll miss you.”

The selkie smiled sadly. 

Bucky helped the selkie roll into a blanket, and scooped the bundle up into his arms, striking out for the beach. It was a short walk he had traversed hundreds of times, but it had never taken him as long as it did this time. He wanted to linger with the selkie. 

Bucky didn’t know if he wanted the selkie to come home with him or if he wanted to go to the sea with the selkie. He wasn’t sure it mattered. 

Inevitably, however, he reached the water’s edge, and put the selkie gently down on the sand. 

The selkie rolled out of the blanket, and looked out toward the sea, and then back at Bucky. 

A long moment passed between them, and then the selkie spoke. “Bucky,” he said. “Thank you for everything.”

And then he slipped into the ocean and was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Here?

Bucky waited on the beach every full moon for nearly a year after the night the selkie left for the last time, but he never returned. He found himself heartsick as he looked out to sea, sometimes seeing the bobbing head of a seal and a thrill would chase up his spine, but no, that wasn’t his selkie. 

The next winter, Louisa grew gravely ill. She had been weak for a long time, but the last year had sapped the remaining life out of her. It was just after Yule when she sent Becca to get Bucky. 

“Bucky,” she said, “Come close.”

He drew a stool to her bedside and sat on it, wrapping his warm hands around one of her small, cool ones. 

“I have a story to tell you,” she said. “I should have told you long ago, but… well, never mind that. I don’t have much time left, and you must know this.”

“Gran,” he said, “you’re… you…”

“Hush,” she said. “I’ve lived a good full life, and I know when the sea is calling me home. But first, a tale.”

-

Once, there was a beautiful woman, beautiful but sad. She was of the seafolk, a selkie. She came ashore one day in a small village, and found a fisherman sitting on the rocks on the beach, a net in his hands. 

“Hello!” she said, appearing for all the world like a young woman out for a walk on the beach. 

The man found her company charming, and they quickly fell in love. One night, months after they met, she took him down to the shore, and pulled her sealskin out from its hiding place, wrapping it around herself. 

“You are a selkie!” he said. 

She had taken a great risk falling in love with a human, and an even greater one in revealing her nature to him. Her kind told the stories of the selkie women who married human men, trapped there when their husbands hid their sealskins so they could never return to the sea. 

But, her fisherman was kind. He knew the stories as well, but he would never do such a thing. They married, and her family was there, as well as his. None but he ever learned of her secret, but she returned to the sea often, and always came home. With her help, his fishing nets were never empty, and they prospered.

They had many children, some of whom went to the sea to live, others remained on land. He sickened with old age, and died on a dark winter’s night. She went back to the sea after that, and her children did not see her for many years. One night, however, her youngest daughter was walking on the beach by moonlight, and heard a splashing. She turned to find her mother in the waves. 

“Hello my daughter,” the selkie said. 

“Mother!” the daughter cried. 

“It is time for me to join your father across the waves,” she said. “Your siblings in the sea know, but I came to shore to tell you. Please tell your siblings on the land. You have found happiness, I can see. I wish you long life and great happiness.”

The daughter tried to argue with her mother, but knew it was useless. She was not human, and her ways were strange. Finally, she embraced her seal-form, and then bade her mother a final farewell as the selkie returned to the sea. 

The daughter returned home to her husband and children, and told her siblings of their mother’s passing. She lived a long happy life with many children and grandchildren, though her husband passed tragically early. Selkies mated for life, and even half-selkie children would do the same. 

But her life was not unfulfilled, for she had taught her magicks to her daughter and her daughter’s daughter. 

-

As Louisa finished her story, she looked up at Bucky through a smile-lined face. 

“You’re the daughter, aren’t you?” he asked. 

“Very good!” Louisa said. “Not many figure that out so quickly.”

“Your mother was a selkie?” Bucky asked, incredulously. 

“She was,” Louisa said. 

“So that’s why you always seemed a little--” Bucky cut himself off.

“Odd?” Louisa asked. 

“Sure,” Bucky said. “Odd.”

Louisa cracked a smile. “Do you know why I told you that story?” she asked.

Bucky shook his head. 

“Selkies mate for life, Bucky,” she said. 

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked. 

“Your selkie friend?” Louisa said. “Have you seen him recently?”

“Not in a year,” Bucky said sadly. 

“Oh,” Louisa said. “Hmm, odd.”

“What?” Bucky asked. 

“He… the selch do not come ashore lightly,” Louisa said. “He came to you, and let you take him away from the ocean. Do you understand what that means to a selkie?” 

Bucky felt like he had been punched in the gut. 

“Oh,” he said softly.

“Something has happened to him,” Louisa said. “And I fear the worst. It is your choice, Bucky, but…”

“But?”

“But you should go. Look for him. Find him.”

“How?” Bucky asked. 

“You have selkie blood in you, boy, use it. You’ll know how.”

-

Two weeks later, after they had sent Louisa back to the sea, Bucky left his village. He bade his parents and his sister farewell, hoisted his pack onto his shoulder, and struck out for the port city. It took him nearly two weeks more to get there, and it was early spring when he walked out onto the docks. 

His village made its trade in fishing, but this was a bustling port where ships from far and wide brought exotic goods into the country. He ducked as a box flew over his head, and then dove out of the way of an angry man catching it. 

“Idiot!” the man shouted after him. 

Bucky wandered down the street, well back from the docks, looking for… he wasn’t sure. He found it, though, in the form of a sign on a window: HELP WANTED

He ducked into the office, where a harried man looked up at him. “What?” he barked. 

“What kind of help do you need?” Bucky asked, jerking his thumb at the sign. 

“Ship’s help,” the man said shortly. “You ever been on a boat?” 

“My uncle’s a fisherman,” he said. “Been on his skiff a few times.”

The man wrinkled his nose. “Better than we’ve had in a while. Pay’s sixteen silver bits a voyage, paid half up front, half when you get back. Food and a hammock provided, you supply the rest of your gear.”

“How long is a voyage?” Bucky asked. 

“Four months at the minimum,” the man said. “If you’re interested be back here at dawn in two days.”

Bucky took that as the dismissal it was intended as, and left the office, shutting the door behind himself. 

Sixteen silver bits was a small fortune, and Bucky was sorely tempted by the offer, but he thought he’d be well served to see what else the city had to offer. Though out at sea was the best place he could think of to look for a selkie, that was only a vague idea. 

Two day, later, however, Bucky was standing in front of the office at first light with a gaggle of other young men. 

The door snapped open, and the man Bucky had spoken to came out.

“So you want to live a life at sea?” he addressed the group. “If you don’t die, she’ll repay you well, the sea. But remember, she is a treacherous mistress.”

One of the others, a mustachioed man in a hat, said, “What’re we hauling?” 

“This trip, food and bev,” the man said. “I’m Phillips, but you can call me Colonel.” 

He led his crew to the ship, the  _ Howling Commando.  _ It was a light, fast vessel, designed for speed over comfort, and the crew was small, less than twenty, all told. Excepting the captain, the first mate, and the cook/medic/priest, they were all new. 

It quickly became apparent who knew how to sail, and who didn’t, but Bucky learned quickly. His days fell into a rhythm dictated by the sea, and though he often looked out over the side of the ship into the dark depths of the sea, he never saw a selkie. 

They made it to their destination in two months, and the Colonel said they’d spend a week in port, which the sailors had off to do whatever they wanted, the first eight silver pieces of their pay weighing down their pockets. 

Dugan, the fellow who always wore a peculiar rounded hat, dragged the lot of them off to the bar, where they sang and drank late into the night. Bucky sat a bit apart from them at the bar, sipping his beer slowly. 

He startled when a woman, dressed in a form-fitting red dress came up beside him. 

She motioned to the bartender, and the man handed her a bottle. She turned to look at Bucky out of the corner of her eye, and he smiled at her. 

“You don’t look like the normal type for this place,” she said. 

“And what’s that?” he asked. 

“Crass sailor,” she replied. “Sailor yes, but the sea hasn’t polished the edges off you yet.”

“Bucky,” he said, offering a hand. 

“Peggy,” she replied, sitting on the open stool next to him. 

She began a surprisingly intense interrogation of his life and reasons for being here. Her accent was clipped and precise, and Bucky found himself somehow reminded of his selkie in her questions. 

A voice from the door caught her attention, nearly four hours later, and she swore under her breath. “If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll show you something interesting,” she said, and then disappeared. Bucky looked after her, astonished. He wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened, but he wasn’t opposed to getting to know her, either. 

The next night, true to her word, she met Bucky at the same bar, and they quickly ducked out the back door. As they hurried down the dark alleys, Bucky tried to figure out a polite way to ask her what her interest in him was. 

“Peggy,” he started. 

“Hmm?” she asked.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “But why are you taking me all over the town?”

“I don’t know,” Peggy said. “On a whim. Magic’s funny like that.”

She didn’t look over her shoulder as she said that last one, but Bucky could see her frame tighten. Casual mention of magic was Not Done in the more ‘civilized’ places of the world. Magic was for small villages and children.

“Ah,” Bucky said. “Geas?” 

“Of a sort, I suppose. But… well… that’s not a story for a night like this.”

She led him down to the ocean, but not the dockside, instead a wild beach. It was a rock beach, unlike the sand beaches Bucky knew so well from his childhood. They stood on the beach in the moonlit dark for a long while, in silence. The wind picked up the loose strands of Peggy’s hair and blew them across her face. 

A shape moved out in the water, catching Bucky’s eye, but it was just a gull on the distant breakers. Then, Peggy grabbed his shoulder and pointed. 

“There, just past the sharp rocks,” she said. “It’s a selkie.”

And indeed, Bucky could just make out the bobbing head of a seal, though he had no reason to doubt that Peggy knew it was a selkie. 

“They’re rare around these parts,” Peggy said. “Too many ships.” 

“I don’t blame them,” Bucky said. “Not in the slightest.” 

“It’s nice to see a bit of the old magic still in the world, though,” Peggy said. 

Bucky agreed wordlessly with her, and they stood there until long after the selkie had disappeared back into the waves. Peggy led Bucky back to the bar, and there they parted company. 

Though he visited the bar every night for the rest of the  _ Commando _ ’s stay in port, he never saw her again. 

-

Bucky made two more trips out on the  _ Commando  _ that year, sending most of his pay home for Becca and their parents. She wrote him that they were doing well. She had met a man and they were to be married the next spring. 

On his third trip of the year, now well into autumn, they were on their way back to the ship’s home port when a storm of legendary proportions blew up. It was all hands on deck to keep the ship upright. Bucky wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but when daybreak came, and the storm dissipated, the ship was in shambles. Some time during the night, several of the crew had been swept overboard, including, tragically, the Colonel. 

The  _ Commando  _ limped back into port, her crew shell shocked and her hull badly damaged. The company that owned her set the crew to repairing her, a task Bucky threw himself into wholesale. The  _ Commando _ had become a home in a way that surprised him, the ship and her crew a kind of found family. He still looked for his selkie in quiet moments, but he found that he truly loved life at sea.

When the repairs were done, they looked to the company for the other half of their pay. 

Bucky was at the head of the group standing in the company’s office, hot rage rising in him as a man he had never seen before dispassionately told him that he and the rest of the crew had failed to live up to their contract when they returned to port with a damaged ship, and, in fact, their services were no longer needed. 

They were ushered out of the office onto the street, and the door summarily barred behind them.

“Fuckers,” Dugan said in a low voice. 

“What do we do now?” another asked. 

“Go home,” one said, a man who had joined at the last port said. 

“No,” Bucky said. “The  _ Commando _ is my home.”

The rest of the crew murmured their agreement. He looked around the group, then at the policeman across the street, eyeing them suspiciously. Bucky started down the street, and they followed. He didn’t go far, just enough to duck into an alley. 

“We steal her,” Bucky said. “Leave this port. We’ll never be able to come back. But the world’s a big place.”

“You’re talking about piracy,” the man who had dissented said.

“Yes,” Bucky said. “I am.”

He looked each of them in the face. “It’s going to take all of us to do this, and we all know now. If any of you want out, know that if you report us, we’re as good as dead.”

Sixteen faces looked back at Bucky, all in various states of determination. Even the man who had suggested they go home was nodding in agreement. 

“That’s it, then,” Bucky said. “Tonight, as soon as the moon’s up, meet on the deck. We sail as soon as all are on board.” 

Getting the  _ Commando  _ out of port was easier than any of them had expected. The company wasted no guards on it, and even after going over every inch of the ship with a fine toothed comb, they found no evidence of magical tracking.

“Where are we going, Captain?” Dugan asked as the ship left the river that led to the harbor and entered the open sea. 

“Huh?” Bucky asked. “Me?” 

Dugan scratched the back of his neck, and nodded. “Seems like the logical choice. Unless anyone’s got objections?” 

None of the crew voiced any. 

And that’s how Bucky found himself the captain of a pirate ship. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING HELL?? Um?? It's been 14 hours since I started writing the first chapter of this, I haven't been this inspired since like... This Love. 
> 
> Good yard, y'all.

A brisk wind snapped the sails of the  _ Howling Commando  _ to full tautness, blowing Bucky’s hair into his face. He turned and barked an order to the crew behind him, getting the ship to lean into her course, tracing a snaking path up behind the ship they were chasing. 

Once a fast cargo vessel, the  _ Commando _ now had a reputation as a fast-strike ship. She would sneak up in broad daylight, hit the unsuspecting victim and be gone before the crew of the other ship even knew what had happened. 

Most didn’t know that the  _ Commando _ ’s targets were very carefully selected, always owned by those who could, and in many cases, should, take the hit. Unlike a more ‘traditional’ pirate, Bucky and his crew left the other ship and their crew intact, taking only light valuable goods. 

Unless, in a case like this, there were slaves involved. They had actually taken a contract this time, from a mysterious benefactor who had contracted their services several times in the past, one M. Carter. 

It was four years after they had liberated the  _ Commando _ , and Bucky’s least favorite runs were the ones that involved slaves. They were always unpleasant, rarely yielded much profit, and sometimes there were  _ children.  _ Slaves were one thing, but, well. Bucky had seen too many things in the last four years to have any sympathy for people who would do those things to children. 

The  _ Commando _ drew alongside the other ship,  _ Malvern _ , only becoming visible to the much taller vessel as she drew abreast of it. There was no small magic in that, a spell Bucky had paid handsomely for, but one that had been worth its weight in gold a thousand times over. A deckhand on the other vessel looked down at the  _ Commando,  _ and shouted in warning, but it was too late.

The Commandos swarmed up the side of the slave ship, and soon had its crew rounded up, tied to the mast. The slaves were brought from below deck, and stood in a huddled mass off to the side. 

“All right,” Bucky said, in a well practiced speech, to the slavers. “We’re giving this ship to her, ahem, passengers. Here’re your choices. You can jump overboard. I don’t think any of us will stop you. You can stay for the tender mercies of the  _ passengers _ . Or, you can get on a rowboat and be left at sea. Make your choice, and quickly.”

Most of the crew elected to get on the rowboat. Not an unreasonable choice, there were islands not far from here, and it wasn’t out of the question that they could get there. 

If they had oars. 

Which they wouldn’t. 

The tropical sun beat down on Bucky’s head as he turned to the shivering slaves. Most of them were women and children, a few skinny men among the group. 

“How many of you can sail?” he asked. A few raised their hands. Not as many as he would have liked, but enough. “Good. We’ll give you an escort into the nearest port. Our benefactor will meet you there. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happens after that. I’m not paid to.”

He nodded to his crew, and they set about making arrangements. Before an hour had passed the two ships were underway again. 

It took a week to come into port, by which time, the entire original crew of the other ship had either left or… mysteriously disappeared. They pulled into the docks, the  _ Commando  _ slotting in narrowly beside the big-bellied  _ Malvern.  _ Their benefactor, or rather, his agent was waiting on the dock. Bucky came down from the  _ Commando _ ’s deck to meet him. 

Jarvis, always an affable man, took the written report Bucky handed him and tucked it into his coat pocket. In return he handed Bucky a wallet that jingled with coin. Bucky tilted his head in thanks, and put the wallet securely down the front of his shirt. 

“I trust the passengers will be well taken care of?” he asked. 

“As always, Mr. Barnes,” Jarvis said gravely. 

Bucky smiled, and turned back to the Commando, dropping down off the dock onto the deck. 

“We’ll be off, then,” he said, gesturing to the crew. They knew they couldn’t linger, not in this port, and jumped to their stations, backing the ship out of its slip, and into the harbor. 

It was a quick journey out into the open ocean, and there, Bucky went into the heart of the ship to reactivate the invisibility spell. He pressed the glyphs carved into the mast down here in prescribed order, and gave a push with the tiny well of power within himself. The silver light of the spell flared, and spiralled up the mast before, above him and out of his sight, unfurling from the sails, and dropping over the ship. 

He turned to go when a noise from the dark far corner of the room caught his attention, and he snapped around, reaching out to grab whoever it was by the shirt. He brought them out into the light, a skinny boy, lank blond hair falling over a gaunt face. Scared blue eyes (strangely familiar blue eyes?) stared at him. He slammed the boy against the cabin wall, a snarl on his face. 

“What are you doing, hiding in here?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice. 

The boy, no, man, he was older than Bucky had thought on first glance, gulped nervously. “‘M sorry,” he said. “It was safe in there, felt… right. Please don’t hurt me.” 

Bucky loosened his grip on the man’s shirt and took a step back. “You were on the slave ship?” he asked. 

“Yes,” the other said. “I… don’t know how I ended up there, though. My memory… is gone. All I know is my name.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked. “I’m Bucky.”

“Steve,” Steve said. 

“Well, Steve,” Bucky said. “We haven’t ever had a stowaway on this ship before.”

“I was gonna leave when you were in port, but I didn’t have a chance,” Steve said. 

“That’s by design,” Bucky said. “But come up to the deck. You look like you need food.”

“You’re not going to throw me in the brig?” Steve asked. 

“Don’t have one,” Bucky said. “Besides, I’m sure you can do something useful. Earn your passage like any passenger.”

They went up to the deck, and if the crew were surprised that Bucky returned with a companion, none asked any questions. Steve wolfed down the food he was offered, a dish that Bucky privately thought better suited a seal (or a selkie) than a human, but it was more edible than many rations were at sea. 

He then set Steve to work scrubbing the deck. Not too much, the man was clearly in delicate shape, but enough that it felt like he was doing something to earn his way. Bucky retired to his cabin to rifle through the papers that had been included in the wallet Jarvis had handed him. M. Carter didn’t always include a new contract, but he often gave Bucky new leads on where to find his next prey. Sometimes Bucky wished he could meet the man so he could kiss him. Without Carter’s patronage, the  _ Commando _ would’ve been out of commission long ago. 

Soon, after the sun set, and the crew was below decks asleep, Bucky returned to the deck, pacing the length of it, looking up at the stars. They were different here in the south, and he felt a moment of longing for the stars of his cold northern home, but no, it was far more friendly to his kind here. Pirates. He spat at the word, but it was still true. 

A footstep behind him made Bucky whirl around. It was Steve, coming up from the hold. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep. Missed the open sky for some reason.” He leaned on the rail next to Bucky. “The stars are different. I can’t say why, but they look wrong.”

“They change depending on where you go,” Bucky said. “They don’t look like this where I’m from, either.”

They stood in companionable silence until Bucky yawned, and knew it was time to go to bed. 

The days fell into a pattern after that, Steve worked himself into the crew. It turned out he could fight like a caged cat, and taught the Commandos things none of them had even thought of. He could cook half-well, which was a long shot more than the rest of them, except Morita, and it was nice to have a backup. Bucky would often find himself talking late into the night with Steve. Though the man remembered nothing about his life, he was more than interested to hear about Bucky’s. It reminded Bucky more than a little of the nights he had spent on the beach in his childhood with his selkie. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d say he was falling in love with the man. But if what his gran had said was true, he could only fall in love once, and he knew, even all these years later, he still loved his selkie with a depth he didn’t truly fathom.

It was three months after Steve’s impromptu induction into the  _ Commando _ ’s crew, and the ship was chasing a spice vessel. According to M. Carter’s intel, this was a particularly nasty spice, one that would end up in the ocean as soon as the Commandos got their hands on it. 

The  _ Commando _ slid up alongside the ship, and relieved it of its cargo (and a great deal of gold, to boot) before slipping off into the bright sun, almost before the captain realized what was happening. With the invisibility spell reactivated, Bucky allowed the ship to slow, just a bit. Steve was sitting on the deck, his shirt off, surrounded by documents from the spice ship. He had a head for that sort of thing. Bucky absently noticed the bright pink line of a scar along one of his sides. It scratched at an odd memory for him, but he shook it away. 

It came as a shock to the entire crew when another ship appeared on the horizon, and appeared to be headed straight for the  _ Commando _ . Which shouldn’t be possible, given the invisibility spell. 

But indeed the ship, a sleek vessel similar to the  _ Commando _ , turned just before it would have hit the  _ Commando _ . Bucky reached for his sword, preparing for a fight, but instead, he found Jarvis waving frantically at him from the other ship. 

“What?” he said, dumbfounded. 

“It’s urgent,” Jarvis shouted. “Come over!” 

Bucky looked around, and Dugan nodded. They furled the sail and dropped sea anchor, allowing the ship to come to a full stop, the other ship slowing alongside it. Gold letters on the stern proclaimed it the  _ Angela _ . Crossing over open water was dangerous, but the crew of the  _ Commando _ did it with regularity. 

Bucky grasped the rope and swung himself over to the deck of the Angela, Dugan right behind him, and (to his surprise), Steve as well. 

“What are you doing?” he hissed to Steve.

“I know this ship,” Steve said. “I don’t know how.”

It was too late to argue now, and he wouldn’t do it in front of Jarvis anyway. 

“Welcome to the  _ Angela _ ,” a voice said from behind Jarvis. A man, slightly built, though somehow more robust than Steve, stepped out from the shadows. He was finely dressed, and wore an elaborate hat. His voice was measured and clipped in a way that tickled at the back of Bucky’s memory in the same way that Steve’s scar had, but he brushed it aside. “I’m sure you have questions, but there isn’t much time. I am Carter, though you may have gathered that.”

Bucky sketched a short bow. “Sir,” he said. 

Carter waved a hand at him. “I don’t stand on much ceremony. Please, come into my cabin. Your companions are more than welcome.”

They followed him into his cabin, a plushly appointed room that made Bucky more than a little jealous of his own spartan space. They sat at a table, on a bench built into the floor. A strange bundle rested in the middle of the table, an odd grey color that Bucky could almost place. 

Carter shut the door behind himself, and then sat at an empty space. He looked Bucky in the eye. “I’m going to be direct, if you don’t mind?” Bucky nodded acquiescence. “I’ve been using your services. The ships you’ve been going after, even without a contract, have been on a particular list of mine. They all work for the Hydra.” Bucky and Dugan both sucked in their breath at the name. 

“I see from your reactions you’ve heard of it? Well, lately it seems to be gathering magic around itself. This, for example,” Carter said, gesturing to the bundle on the table. He shook it out, and it revealed itself to be a cloak.

No

A 

Sealskin.

A  _ selkie _ ’s sealskin. 

A selkie’s sealskin bearing a dark scar on the flank.

_ Bucky’s  _ selkie’s sealskin. 

Three things happened at once.

Bucky reached out for the sealskin, his hand shaking. 

Steve reached for the sealskin, his eyes mesmerised. 

Carter said the word  _ selkie.  _

Before Bucky or Carter could move, Steve had his hands on the sealskin, and had flung it over his shoulders. Bucky had never seen a selkie shift before, but Steve seemed to shimmer before his eyes, then he twisted, and in place of the man was a seal. 

He looked over at Bucky, his blue eyes wide in his grey seal-face. 

“I remember you,” he said in the strange accent of the selch. 

“Steve,” Bucky said. 

The selkie shuddered, a faerie responding to the power of his name. 

“It seems we have much to discuss,” Carter said, regarding the selkie on his couch with considerable grace. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found anywhere a selkie lives @fireflyslove


End file.
